The Lion and the Rose
by Aria Pearson
Summary: This is the tale of two girls and their journey to grow and become the women they are destined to be. Weaving together their lives will change Westeros irreparably. The old will become new, love will be found and lost, and destiny will take them to places and people they never expected to know…
1. Allyria

_Family is all that matters. Family is everything. Family before everyone and everything. No matter how you feel about each other you are family_. Tywin's voice became the mantra in the back of Allyria's mind as she and her escorts rode straight towards the warcamp that sprawled across her vision ahead of them.

_Family is all that matters._

She came to a stop just before the entrance where two men, one much older and one about her age, stood watch.

Very carefully she slid off her horse and stepped toward the guards.

_Family is everything._

"I am here to see the King." Ally spoke to seemingly no one in particular, with her eyes straight ahead. She strolled past them, her crimson skirts playing along the blades of grass beneath her feet and her fire tinged blonde hair wrestling its bindings in the wind.

_Family before everyone and everything._

Looking around she spotted the only guarded tent flap and made her way that direction, even though she found herself watching a very white-haired individual shuffling towards her rather quickly and without thinking slowed almost to a stop. The face looked like a ghost of a person she once knew. The pause gave her guards and the ones from the gate plus a few men that were around become a barricade around her, barring her way to the tent and the King. Northmen really wouldn't let a lion amongst themselves, woman or man. How interesting.

_No matter how you feel about each other..._

"An escort would be lovely boys, but I doubt that there will be room for our entourage to all fit in the war tent." Again she relied on their honorable unwillingness to harm a woman and pushed her way through them and forward, letting them follow her if they wished directly to the war-tent. Her guard pulled aside the flap and she stepped inside. Permission was a courtesy she would not be afforded is she were to ask.

_You are family._

Her eyes locked onto the young man, barely older than herself, sitting casually at the head of the strategy table and set her determination on him. Which got her four steps before a tall red-haired angry looking woman placed herself between the two.

"Who are you and how dare you just march in here?" the older woman said her words practically dripping with contempt and condescension.

"Please forgive me, my Lady Catelyn. My manners seem to be lacking from my urgency. I am Lady Allyria Brax, wife of Lord Tytos Brax, Lord of Hornvale." Ally gave a little curtsey, trying to hide her own brand of contempt for the Lady Stark.

"You forgot daughter of Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, and Warden of the West. Enemy to my son and family. What are you doing here, Cunning Lion?" the Lady was sure to keep Ally away from the King knowing that she was a Lannister, but Ally could be resourceful.

"Would not our King benefit from an alliance with a large portion of his enemies forces?" This was her chip. Her one bargaining point that her entire plan balanced on. The words came easily, now all she had to do was follow through.

"Help from a Lannister would only put a knife in my sons back." Catelyn motioned for Ally to be removed as she spoke.

"I would much prefer that knife to be in Tywin's back." she loaded every word with anger and resentment, hoping against hope that the mother would see pain and give her one chance.

"Let her through Mother"

Ally had never heard that voice in her life, but she knew it belonged Robb Stark, the King in the North. They called him the Young Wolf, the undefeated champion of the North, coming to avenge the death of his father and free the realms from the reign of the tyrant Joffrey. He was still a boy but an entire people rested their hopes on his shoulders. She was still unsure that he could live up to their expectations.

"Him, as well" he motioned to the door of the tent, but Ally did not see who exactly he was speaking of until a flash of white hair came into her vision and she worked back a smile.

Together the two of them stepped to the map strewn table, eyes set on the King. Ally curtsied to him, his near black eyes seemed to shine with the promise of a storm and they held onto hers as if her ethereal emerald depths would never see anything else again. She had seen them before, but she couldn't place where.

"You, sir, have taken the notice of many of my other men," The words were pointed not at Ally, but at the soldier. Rude, but Ally knew that he had to show a lack of respect for her. Northmen did not understand that station and family gave a person the right to respect, nothing else. It took her a moment too long to realize that the words had come from just to the right of the man she had assumed to be the King. Instead a bulkier, auburn haired boy stood with near decent posture, leaning over the table to look directly at the person next to Ally. Under closer study she could see his mother revealing herself in his features and felt a small twinge of embarrassment. She had heard that the boy-King more resembled the Tully's of Riverrun than the Stark's of Winterfell, and had still looked right past him.

"Why would that be, my liege?" the voice was hard to read, but the near hidden defiance in the tone gave Ally reason to smile. She knew what was hidden behind the poorly crafted facade.

"As if you do not know that your skills seem to exceed those of your peers. You will now lead your battalion under the command of Lord Umber. That will be all." He seemed to be rushing through the promotion, and judging by a few of the looks on his commanders faces she had an inkling of why.

"I respectfully decline, my King." one simple turn and the white head was bobbing its way out of the tent. How no one noticed was beyond Ally's comprehension, but men rarely notice what they do not want to see.

Ally couldn't help the smile spreading across her face. "Do you make a habit of promoting women in your army, King Robb?"

The King stared for a moment, either astounded or offended, she could not quite tell which.

"Someone get him...her back here now." He barked to the front of the tent and several of the men turned and left in a huff.

A few moments later two men drug in the kicking woman, past everyone and right back to Ally's side, where she was hardly containing a small laugh.

"My King, may I present to you Lady Esmérelda Farring, if I remember correctly."

"Hello, Allyria" the woman growled in her direction, reminding Ally of all the times that voice was pointed at everyone but her.

"Nice to see you again, Esmé."

"Take him...her to the cells. I will deal with this later."

"They are full, my King." one of Esmé's captors spoke up.

"Then put her in with the kingslayer, he cannot hurt her." He waved them off as Esmé started to yell about not wanting to be caged with that man.

"Tell my brother hello for me while you're there, Esmé." The hilarity of the situation had Ally smiling while trying to keep from bursting out in laughter. Some things were much more dire at the moment.

"So Lady Lannister, what is this I heard about a knife in Tywin's back?" Robb's attention was back on the original topic finally, good.

"It is Lady Brax, my King. I no longer have my father's name. I am here to delegate an alliance between yourself and Lord Brax, giving you the pledge of his forces to help you win this war." Ally knew how this worked, she knew that being a woman would count against her to the Northern King, but lucky for her she had been well trained.

"If your husband wishes an alliance, when shall we expect him to arrive, my Lady?" such a predictable response from the boy-King.

"My husband is by my Lord father's side, holding up our good standing with him in case you, dear King, do not accept our help. You cannot expect us to simply walk away from Tywin Lannister unscathed."

"Then how can you prove his investment in this potential acquaintanceship you are proposing?"

"What man would send his own beloved wife into the center of an enemy King's war camp without being fully prepared to invest wholeheartedly in the endeavor. Tytos wishes Tywin and the bastard King Joffrey taken from power and from this world more than you could imagine, King Robb."

"You will keep contact with him regarding our proceedings via raven and travel with us until this is settled." Robb stated instead of questioned, an infraction she chose to overlook. "Do you have your own supplies?"

"Yes, my King." Ally curtsied, recognizing the imminent dismissal.

As she began turning a voice called her attention back. "Be careful not to be alone among these men. Not many of them will see your honor for its value."

Once again her eyes fell into the cloudy depths of the other man, who was now leaning on the table in the same way the King had.

"My dear," Ally gave him a sweet smile, "I will never fear these men, nor any other."

With that she turned on her heel and motioned to her guards to follow, her heart pounding in her ears. Only after the tent flaps had fallen shut behind her did she allow herself a deep breath of the crisp air, fighting down the rush that had her head spinning. Tomorrow she began her campaign, her true reason to be here amongst the very people she had been raised to see as the enemy. Saving the kingslayer, her elder brother, Jaime Lannister.

_You are family._

_Author's Note: _

This story is not something that I have written entirely alone, my best friend is writing her own point of view on all of the events that transpire and we have decided that we would like to have them both in one 'book'. So I will be updating with her portions as well as my own. Everything I have written will be in chapters titled Allyria and hers in Esmérelda. I will try my best to keep them updated to the same point so there is no confusion.


	2. Esmérelda

Amidst the bloodshed and violence I feel at home. Surrounded by men showing their true natures, their dark sides. In the midst of battle a man shows himself for who he is and so this is a mans one and only truth, if any man tries to tell you that his love is his truth then he is lying. They always lie.

There I stood in the chaos, breathing in the smell of sweat and death, soaking in the sounds of passion and defeat. Three men stepped into positions in front of me, not a smart move if I say so myself, but their downfall. All three were larger than me by bulk but only one took me in height. He was a brute of a man clad in the sigil of the lion and wilding a shining great sword, but by comparison his companions were small and appeared to be no more than boys maybe a year older than me. The right was garbed by the golden rose and the left the sigil of House Ashford.

There was one other thing loved about battle. You did not have to talk to an opponent to learn their flaw, only had to keep a keen eye, and you can foul any foe. Politics was an entirely different story. That diluted world was full of lies and brutality. Somehow all of that vileness is justified by laws, but on the battlefield everything is out in the open, no lies.

Waiting, I stood there patiently to see who would jump first, the brute, the jumpy Tyrell or the cowardly Ashford boy.

'_Oh here comes my little Tyrell whelp'_ I thought as a sly smile slipped across my face. I lowered my stance as he threw his weight behind his sword in a blatant lunge. Digging in my heel I twisted and moved myself directly in his space, he smelled of fear and the panicked look in his doe brown eyes stilled me in my bones, he knew he was got, he knew the end was here. Curious, would I know when it came for me?

'_Stupid, stupid pay attention' _I scolded, the moment of sympathy passed within seconds and I pushed my dirk into his throat. A strangled gurgling noise foamed from him as the blade pierced his windpipe and severed his spine. The blow was intended for a quick and quiet kill and it did its job. As the boy fell from my grip, his blood cascaded down my hand and arm and I felt the thud of his body hit the ground in my bones.

My reflexes kicked in, barely in time, as a shining blade slammed into my raised sword, reverberating down my arm and to my feet. That blow would have cleaved me clean through.

'_Stupid, stupid.'_

Pulling away he went for another blow. My back still turned I dropped my sword, pulling my other dagger and spinning low. Red flowed down into the mud as the monster roared, falling to his knees his Achilles no longer able to hold him upright.

He then met my gaze as I rose to my feet. "Make it quick like his", he said.

I simply obliged him, seeing no need to cause unneeded pain.

Rain began to fall, turning soft soil into a slippery mess, but soothing and calming my ragged mind and body. Thud, the brute fell atop the boy and I turned slowly expecting to find the third whelp charging me, but instead found no one opposing me. The coward had run, as expected.

A warning was called out. Turning to see what it was, I found myself instead looking up at sky, my back pressed into the ground by a nearly seven-foot behemoth of a man and finding no air in my lungs.

_'How did I end up on the ground? Oh ya behemoth, need air.'_ A warmth spread over my belly and hands.

_'Did he stab me when we fell? No I don't feel any pain. That means he is hurt, and there is no way this bastard is going to die on me and drag me down with him. Oh, wait he already did.'_ A sad humph sound came from me which I suppose is my laugh.

_'Ok__, this oaf needs to get off of me on his own. I guess that leaves me with one option, because i could never lift this colossus on a good day._ _That good day including a strength potion or some sort of super herb.'_

Pooling every last scrap of my remained strength I took a single strangled breath. Pushing the energy of the breath into my hands, I searched for the wound with bloody fingers. As soon as contact was made a wave of warmth shot down my arm and out of my fingertips. If I was not careful I could get my finger stuck in the open wound, which would be almost as bad as what I knew was about to happen. If I hadn't been pinned to the ground I would have been curled in a ball of pain and if I had air in my lungs I would have screamed, but I couldn't do either when the pain tore through my lungs telling me a rib had broken and bruised, and as my stomach tore open and began soaking me in the blood of his now healed and my now opened wound.

With a grunt he pulled himself up onto all fours. "Hey there lad, sorry about that." he had a gruff kind of gentle voice that you wanted to hear over and over. It was soothing and reassuring. Now that i could see his face I recognized who he was, he was the Greatjon, also known as the Greatjon Umber Lord of the Last Hearth and a commander for the King in the North.

'_Good I healed a man who I was supposed to, yay me.'_ he stood to his enormous height and offered me a hand , which I shakily extended. As soon as I achieved a vertical stance everything went wibbly wobbly.

'_Oh blood loss can be such a pain in the ass sometimes.' _

"Well laddy you seem fine and standing." With a big smile he thwapped me on the shoulder and went on his merry killing way. I sighed and took four deep pained breaths to center my head and my rage. As I let the anger flow through me I moved, cutting through annoyances, trying to work my way to the edge of the mayhem so I would not pass out in the midst of it all and end up getting trampled.

Unfortunately, in my determination, I pulled the attention of far too many enemies at once. My actions became ones of pure instinct, my logic and cunning becoming more and more distant with every drop of blood I lost. One down, two down, three, four…someone pressed against my back and the feeling of soft fur shot through my blurred senses and forced me back to a more civilized state of mind.

"Stand fast. I am a friend." The lilting and entrancing accent I had never heard before pulled my attention, and somewhere in my mind I knew that fighting by this man would keep me alive, for now.

In tandem we eliminated everything in our path, dodging, parrying and spinning in and out of each others path. We fought like we had known each other for years. Time blurred away until the fighting was over and I stood there panting, fighting for the ability to stay standing.

"Soldier, you fought well. What is your name?" Stepping in front of me, I truly saw him for the first time. Standing only a little taller than me, he was ever a Tully boy, with thick auburn hair that curled cut and tempered over his a strong stubborn forehead. He was bulky with steady shoulders and firm jaw.

'_Gods he is handsome'_ the thought betrayed me. _'No, I am not here to be attracted to someone I am here to hide.' _

He held himself like a Lord, with confidence, but the look in his piercing blue eyes showed me a vague sort of fear. The kind of look when you know someone is not completely sure who they are and what they are capable of.

As I stared at this beautiful, confident, scared, Lord it occurred to me that this was not a Lord but a King. The King in the North and someone I didn't want knowing me. That would be counterproductive to the hiding. If I do not hide then he will find me and then my daughter and I will be in danger and I cannot have her life in danger.

Everything blurred as I tried to reach my hand out for a handshake, my entire center of balance shifting with every inch my hand moved. I cannot pass out right now, need to get away. But I was already falling and the ground approached me far too quickly. The grounds progress was halted by firm arms that locked around me, lowering me gently.

'_Hmm this feels nice, so much for this man keeping me alive.'_ I thought bitterly.

"Soldier where is the wound?' His tone was calm but worried. He was concerned, meaning he was the man that he was known to be by so many. There was no better man than one who was known for compassion and honor and actually possessed those traits, unlike the selfish and vain knights of the south.

'_How can I be so bitter while dying in this mans arms?'_

Shaking, I attempted to apply pressure to the gaping bleeding wound on my abdomen. I do not blame him for not being able to see the cause of my weakness, I had to be covered in blood. My own, GreatJon's, the brute, the boy, and every other soul I had come in contact with.

The last thing I felt when the world became black was a steady hand replacing mine. It was a decent last thought if you ask me.

_Author's Note:_

This is actually before what has happened in chapter 1 so far, I will be adding more to chapter 1 to even out where the story line falls and this chapter will contain more that catches up to the events of chapter 1. We hope to run this entire story simultaneously chapter by chapter as much as we can.


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